“Nice move,” I whisper.
“You just got to trust me.” She smirks before fading off into the distance.
No matter how much I try to shove down how much she is showing up—I can’t seem to ignore her.
Putting my hands in my jean pockets, I watch as he scarfs down his taco, not letting any ingredient go to waste, only lifting his head when I clear my throat to let out, “Ahem.”
“Charlotte.”
“Holden.”
“You’re here.”
“I’m here.”
Riveting banter that could sell movie scripts. I slide into the bench across from him and the waitress comes by as soon as I am ready to start talking.
Her black apron is folded around her waist with a tiny notepad in hand, ready to ask, “Would you like a menu?”
With a quick glance at the table next to us, I say, “I’ll have what their having.”
“Arroz con pollo, it is.”
“Thank you, ma’am” I say as she scribbles down the order and walks away.
“Where did you come from?” Holden questions.
“New Jersey, why do you ask?”
My fingertips fidget with the pendant around my neck. I know one thing for sure, every time I am around him, it does not stop glowing and chanting, “A luz sabe. Duas almas incompletas.” Most moments in between, it pretty much fades into a regular necklace.
“Nothing, just don’t see people say ma’am very often around here.”
As if he is reading my own thoughts, he interrupts with, “Before you ask, it is what it is.”
“Are you sure, because I had no idea—”
“It’s not your fault.”
It’s official, my reputation is ruined. He’ll hate me forever and any attempt to do this thing for real will be a dumpster fire.
“But, you didn’t want this,” I say as my voice cracks.
“True, but I don’t have much choice since it’s public now.”
Our silence carries for a few minutes before the waitress arrives with the steaming-hot plate of chicken and rice—a welcome distraction.
As far as I know, he doesn’t even care. Hanging my mouth open in an unladylike way, I push the spoonful of food to my mouth. Within seconds, the sting of the heat hits my tongue, leaving a mark that will probably last a whole day.
“Are you okay?” Holden pushes the water over to me. I take the glass with urgency as I swish the cool liquid around my mouth. I sigh in relief.
“I’m great,” I mumble.
Holden is eyeing me. I am eyeing his taco. Everyone in the restaurant is way too concerned with our booth. If I wait any longer, I’ll lose my nerve to tell him.
Holden pushes his plate away to the middle of the table and crosses his arms against his chest.
“So did you come here to just sit with me while I eat tacos?”
